The Guilt of Taking a Break (and Why I’m Learning Not To)

Here’s something I don’t talk about enough: the guilt. We do here, but not out in public. And why is that?

Every time I sit down and don’t write, or clean, or work, that voice creeps in. The one that says I’m wasting time. That I should be doing more. That I’m lazy. Rest feels like weakness. Silence feels like failure.

And yet, burnout doesn’t make me productive. It makes me useless. When I push myself past the breaking point, my words dry up, my patience withers, and I’m not good for anyone, especially not my son, who deserves a mom who has something left to give not a short fuse. 

I’m learning (slowly, stubbornly) that taking a break isn’t selfish. It’s survival. Those moments of rest, whether it’s a nap, a walk, or even just sitting in silence, refill the well. They give me the strength to keep going when life demands more than I think I have.

The truth is, my guilt is rooted in fear. Fear of falling behind. Fear of not being enough. Fear that if I stop, even for a moment, everything will collapse around me. But the more I fight that fear with actual rest, the more I realize the opposite is true. The breaks don’t make me weaker. They keep me in the game.

So today, if you’re reading this and feeling that same guilt, let me say it plain: rest isn’t lazy. Breaks aren’t wasted time. They’re what keep us from burning all the way out.

And survival? Survival is enough.

Be Brave, Be Bold, But Always Stay Humble